


Risk Averse

by SueBob99



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Chloe KNOWS, F/M, Feels, Humor, Sexual Tension, Smut, Wings, mildish angst, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SueBob99/pseuds/SueBob99
Summary: “If you must know, Detective...” Lucifer trailed off, clearing his throat. “If you must know, last week I was at Lux feasting at the Brittany buffet. We were getting delightfully carried away. And I must have subconsciously called for my wings, because they chose that moment to...” Lucifer waved his arms wide. “Assert themselves!”Oh, no!“They discovered your angelic origins-”“Midcoitus? In flagrante? Yes, I made quite the impression!”-----------------Following an accidental wing reveal, the devil is temporarily celibate.Meanwhile, going undercover at a business risk seminar causes Chloe to reassess what risks she's willing to take.Case fic with smut and feels.Cannon divergent after s2e18.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few months after s2e18.
> 
> As was written before S3, I've had had to make several assumptions (what's happened, state of relationships, etc).
> 
> So in this story...  
> \- Chloe knows Lucifer is the Devil.  
> \- He has come to accept Chloe does have free will.  
> \- The wings are a gift from Dad.  
> \- Lucifer has only told Chloe what he thought she needed to know, not everything. He hasn't told her about her miracle status or Uriel's death (not that either are that relevant to the story).

 

She’d known something terrible had happened when Lucifer cried off their then case, curtly explaining he had “L.A.’s foremost entertainment hotspot to run. And the Devil can’t play Riggs to your Murtaugh every day.” Then when he finally showed he’d been upset and dishevelled. A week later this distressing mood vanished but left behind an odd twitchiness never before seen on Chloe’s elegant partner.

Something was definitely off.

Letting the elevator’s warm orange glow relax her, Chloe tried not to think of what she might find once the doors opened. Hopefully she wouldn’t walk in on him in the middle of an orgy. Or worse (something she didn’t like to think about). Or any of his many, other hobbies she’d struggle to un-see!

The elevator pinged, doors opening to reveal Lucifer sat in his dressing gown, at the piano, and drinking...was that breakfast orange juice?

“Brought you a case. Ella sent preliminary pics.” Chloe handed her cell phone to Lucifer who began swiping through shots of the crime scene: a sparsely furnished office with large person-sized bloodstain beside the safe.

“What are we solving?” Lucifer flicked a finger across her phone screen: shot after shot displayed blood-soaked grey carpet, but no body. “Murder of the Invisible Man?”

“The victim’s Ben Anderson Chief Financial Officer of Trailblazer Solutions a company offering business risk taking seminars. Killer took his body but Anderson’s the only person missing and Ella confirmed that’s far more blood than he could survive loosing, so she’s certain it’s him. I said we’d meet her there.

Chloe sat beside him on the piano bench, watching the midday sunshine glint off the Steinway’s black surface as she considered her partner. He was deeply honourable, in his own Luciferish way. Perhaps reminding him of a recently made promise would help him to open up? So she said, “On the drive over, I thought we could talk. You’re acting jumpy, and I want to be here for you. After learning more about you-”

“Being The Satan? Registered trademark. ”

“Yes, that. You promised you’d share more.”

Lucifer sipped his orange juice. “I gave my word I’d try.”

“Oh, come on!”

“And having this conversation is certainly trying enough for one day, Detective.”

At Lucifer’s smirk and self-satisfied another-devilish-loophole-found-by-yours-truly posture, Chloe released a long, slow breath. God help her, the man was frustrating! And unruly. And childish. And stubborn. And so, so...exasperatingly him!

She supposed it wasn’t really his fault. He’d learnt the hard way to expect little from the people closest to him.

God had plenty to answer for.

Taking a swig of his orange juice, Chloe braced herself to try again (because he would always be worth the effort, no matter what he told himself) and took his hand, turning him so she could stare into his soft-brown eyes. “Friends listen, and try their best to understand without judgement. I hope you know you can share anything with me.”

“Ah, yes, well.” Lucifer cleared his throat loudly. “No doubt I’d love sobbing all over your lovely shoulder like some weak, pathetic cry-baby. But as a selfless Devil I wouldn’t want my partner bored.”

“I’ll be fascinated. Promise.”

“It’s also a dreadfully long story. A long, long, terribly long story. And I wouldn’t want to cut you off before the climax.”

“Then it’s a good job we’ve got time. Crime scene’s way out in the boonies.” Chloe waved a hand at his silk dressing gown. “Come on, you can start catching me up while getting appropriately dressed.”

Beside her, Lucifer sighed.

Silently, he stood and stepped around the piano, shrugging off his dressing gown as he strolled- naked apart from black boxer shorts -to his bedroom doorway. Because of course he’d think stripping was appropriate among work colleagues. At the stone entrance he paused to casually throw the gown onto his couch then disappeared inside, leaving Chloe saddened. Because why did she think he’d open up to her? Lucifer was a private person (in some ways at least). His feelings intensely guarded.

 _ _It’s ridiculous to be disappointed__ , Chloe told herself, when Lucifer suddenly reappeared in the doorway buttoning a white silk shirt. He huffed exaggeratedly, focussing his attention on the buttons. “If you must know, Detective...” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “If you must know, last week I was at Lux feasting at the Brittany buffet. We were getting delightfully carried away. I popped my cork, and I must have subconsciously called for my wings, because they chose that moment to...” Lucifer waved his arms wide. “Assert themselves!”

Oh.

Oh, no!

“They discovered your angelic origins-”

“Midcoitus? In flagrante? Yes, I made quite the impression.”

Chloe had a sudden image of Lucifer on his bed, towering over her, as his magnificent white wings unfurled. Their divine light stretched on either side of him, revealing her friend in his full angelic glory.

“Oh God!”

“Exactly! Thanks to Dad’s so-called gift, sex with me is so divine it’s now a religious experience!” Lucifer disappeared behind his bedroom’s stone wall, but his agitated voice sounded loudly. “And unfortunately, not the boring usual kind! You humans weren’t meant to discover the great white light this way. When angels announce their divinity, it’s typically a ‘Behold the star in the East’ or a ‘Hark unfortunate virgin, you‘ve been chosen to birth humanity’s saviour’ sitch, not ‘And the Lord Dad saith, let there be London-Bridge-ing!’”

“It was that bad?”

“I lost my two favourite Brittanys.” From behind the wall, Lucifer’s voice sounded resigned. “One fled screaming. The other fainted. I offered her a glass of top-shelf Speyside single malt, she threw it at me, then fled screaming.” 

Poor Lucifer. Losing the Brittanys would knock his fragile self-belief, challenging the acceptance he thought he’d found. Chloe knew despite accepting her affection, he remained certain he didn’t deserve it. Now, he’d wonder when she’d finally realise he wasn’t worth it.

He reappeared in the doorway, now wearing a classic single-breasted black suit and a bewildered expression. “I just don’t understand why I should feel guilty. I didn’t want the bloody wings! It’s is all Dad’s fault. Not mine! And even then, Brittanys don’t stay. They come and go. Pun intended.”

 

***

 

Beside her, Lucifer was unusually quiet as Chloe started the patrol car, turning out of Lux’s parking structure and onto the main road. Knowing Trailblazer Solution’s offices were at least a thirty minute drive in good traffic, she concentrated on navigating the busy lanes, giving him time and comfortable silence to process. Finally, as she turned onto the freeway she noticed he seemed to be watching her and ready to talk.

“Have you heard from the Brittanys since?”

“Actually, they’re all squared away. Dr Linda’s given a relatively clean bill of mental health: I mean, she had to talk Brittany Two out of joining a nunnery, poor darling thought ‘wings interruptus’ was Dad sending her a message. But their brains haven’t leaked out their ears. And Dr Linda’s continuing treatment over Skype.”

“Why Skype?”

“They fled L.A.” Lucifer fidgeted his adjustable cup-holder. “I called in a few favours. Brittany Two has a prestigious internship at a name New York fashion house. Brittany One’s taking a corporate private jet to Oregon, visiting family. Whatever they desire in life, they’ll find they have the Me’s own luck. Fashion design was Brittany One’s passion. And Brittany Two actually likes her Dad. So good for them. Happy it worked out.”

“So they’re fine then?”

Relatively fine.

Lucifer nodded, staring out the window.

Chloe gave him her softest voice. “Sounds like you did all you could: employing Linda, helping them get settled. You can be pleased it worked out so well.”

Lucifer sat back in his seat, face half-turned towards his window, and pouting in a way that set off Chloe’s detective instincts. Definitely not everything, then. He looked decidedly sulky, but it was more than that. Something about his rigid posture, or the way his fingers restlessly drummed the car’s armrest, or how his leg jiggled seemingly on its own?

“The Brittanys were the pre-sitch sitch if you will,” Lucifer confirmed, suddenly sounding frustrated, fingers twitching convulsively on the armrest. “Now I’m dealing with a crime against nature! Against the rightness of the universe! Another celestial bird flipped at my expense!”

Wanting to comfort him, Chloe moved her hand from the wheel and gently patted his trouser leg, causing his breath to hitch and him to squirm in his seat. He was twitchy. Very twitchy. And he’d been making more euphemisms, she realised, getting that familiar feeling like on a case, when spotting key evidence. Lucifer needed sex like regular people needed water. If he was breathing, he was ready for sex. So was her sex-crazed friend temporarily celibate? She took the opportunity to study him, the way his fingers twitched against the armrest, as he squirmed under her gaze...

Oh, God! He was! And it had apparently hit him hard. Perhaps sex-free-devil days worked on a ratio, like human years to dog years? But from the way Lucifer wriggled in his seat, definitely more than a ratio of one to seven. The Devil was horny. “Lucifer? Have you had sex since?”

Lucifer self-consciously smoothed down his dark suit and gave a long suffering sigh. “I’m dealing with a slight...self-imposed celibacy sitch. It’s been eleven days!”  

“Eleven whole days, huh?”

She must have been smiling because Lucifer said, “It’s not funny Detective!”

“It’s a little funny.” Chloe swatted his arm.

Lucifer’s jaw clenched, and Chloe realised she’d upset him.

“I can’t risk revealing the great white light to innocents.” Lucifer ground out, glaring out the windshield. “Can’t risk another celestial wardrobe-malfunction putting the fear of Dad into them. Magnificent sex shouldn’t end in the other party joining a nunnery! Or, Dad forbid, tossing themselves off the balcony!”

And now she felt terrible.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just tough imagining you of all people...going without sex.”

“It’s just because the wings are new.” Lucifer minutely examined his seatbelt, cheeks flushing pink, and Chloe realised she seeing the un-embarrass-able Lucifer Morningstar blush. “After one Luna cycle I’ll be back to my devilish ways.”

“There’s no other way?”

“There’s one, but I don’t need it! The Pendant of Origins would instantly acclimatise me, and Amenadiel, the feathered prick, practically ordered me to pop down to Hell for it. Because clearly the Devil’s not responsible enough!”

“He shouldn’t have said that.” Chloe shook her head in annoyance, as she pulled up at their crime scene, parking beside a black and white, and turned off the engine. Sometimes she wanted to throttle Lucifer’s brother, make him recognize Lucifer had earned more faith than was ever given him. “I believe in you, and I’m here if you want to talk.” Chloe waved a hand at Lucifer’s general suit-wearing form. “Are you finding it-”

“Hard?”

“Difficult.”

“I’ll be fine, Detective: can’t be that challenging. I’m one of the most powerful beings in existence, the former ruler of an entire realm, not some weak-willed human, a slave to his desires. The Devil’s not some horny teenager.”

Chloe gave him her best sceptical-detective-stare.

“I’m sure I can handle it. Pun intended.”

“Ew.”

 

***

 

Their office crime scene boasted a series of interconnected cramped white-washed rooms on the floor above where Trailblazer Solutions were holding this week’s seminars. Several uniformed cops were combing the scene as Chloe entered, while Ella bent over the enormous blood splodge covering half the cheap grey carpet, taking various slides and samples.

Chloe sought out Dan as he finishing giving a uni orders.

“Hey Clo.” Dan flipped open his notebook, immediately deferring to her as lead investigator. “So far we’re missing: a body and a murder weapon. Ella’s thinking something pointy, like their Trailblazer Solutions ‘Trailblazer of the Week’ trophy,” Dan said, pointing at a row of steel trophies shaped like a man standing at the peak of Everest. “Unis are combing the area. Apart from that, the safe was open and we suspect they stole some sort of financial ledger. Ella recovered one blood-soaked torn page.”

“Meaning victim and killer were fighting when the victim died.” Chloe jotted in her notebook. “What else?”

“Killer stole the ledger but left over fifty grand.”

“Not a robbery then.” Chloe nodded for Dan to continue. “Main suspects?”

“Laura Reeves C.E.O., main speaker, also the victim’s fiancée. Samuel Turner, Chairman. Tasha Sanders, the vic’s financial assistant, she found the body along with cleaner Mila Kalbarczyk. Except for the cleaner, all three claimed they’d been alone all day in their offices. And they all deny knowledge of a secret ledger.” Dan sighed. “But security’s not tight, so killer could also be any of the hundred conference goers downstairs.”

“I’d like to interview the two who found the body.”

“They’re waiting.” Dan nodded. “I sent the C.E.O. and Chairman home, so they wouldn’t recognise you. Given it’s looking like an inside job, Lieutenant wants you and Lucifer undercover.”

For the interviews, Chloe commandeered the victim’s office, a simple room with an old computer, two swivel chairs and a desk. Stepping back, she allowed her resident Devil to work his desire-voodoo-mojo-thing, admiring his ease at dragging forth suspects’ hidden desires. __It’s not terrible having the Devil on your side__ , she thought as he sent her a self-satisfied smirk.

Financial Assistant Tasha Sanders’ deepest desire was to fund a Swedish-style home in Hawaii for her and her five Shih Tzu puppies. She gave Chloe the creeps, appearing eerily tranquil about the death of her long-time mentor and discovering the bloody crime scene, describing it as “OTT drama.” When asked if she missed her mentor, Tasha said “he was all money, money, blah, blah, blah.”

In their next interview, with Mrs Kalbarczyk a round neatly dressed lady in her late sixties who discovered the blood pool on her usually cleaning route, Lucifer amazed Chloe by slipping into perfectly accented Polish. Mrs Kalbarczyk appeared smitten and as she talked the older lady stroked Lucifer’s arm and giggled. Her desire was to have her seven young grandkids at her Ruby wedding anniversary, and she flaunted countless adorable kid pictures to a very bored-looking Devil (“Are all human newborns so hideously potato-like? Did yours look like a spud with eyes?”).

After, Chloe lead him to one side of the room to compare notes.

“Shall we arrest her now?” Lucifer pointed to Mrs Kalbarczyk as the older lady lovingly smoothed out each picture with all the care given to someone’s most prised possession. “Send her to the slammer? Start her breaking rocks in the hot sun?”

Chloe snorted. “She’s not my main suspect either. She may have a hidden motive, but my instincts say no.” Chloe studied her long-limbed partner, leant against the doorway. “What do you make of the Financial Assistant, Tasha?”

“Cold fish. Didn’t seem too bothered by the tragic death of The Invisible Businessman did she?”

 “Nope. And she has a financial interest. Dan confirmed she’s got a ten percent stake in Trailblazer.” Chloe flipped open her notebook, looking down the hasty scribbles. “She’s not the only one though. Main Speaker Laura Reeves has thirty, as does Samuel Turner and, of course, the victim.” Chloe looked down the next steps of her ‘to do’ list. “Dan’s combing their official books for discrepancies. Meanwhile you and I are joining ‘Standing Still or Moving Forward? Risk and Your Business’ seminar, taking the tickets of two no-shows.”

Lucifer rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. “Undercover! Will I get an alias and a mysterious, traumatic backstory?”

“Not unless you give it to yourself.”

Lucifer’s grin widened.

“Do not give yourself an alias!”

“But Detective it’s my first undercover where I don’t have to be me! And debonair aliases are a cornerstone of those wonderful spy movies.”

“You won’t need one. We’re only there for Laura and Samuel, and see if any of the attendees saw anything odd.”

“Won’t Little Miss Cold-Fish blow our cover?”

“Not for several days. Officers found coke in her handbag. I’ve persuaded them that under the circumstances, it’s enough to warrant a hefty bail. She’ll be spend the next few days in lock up.”

“You little wily scamp!”

Chloe shared a grin with him. “Anyway, seminar’s on hiatus ‘till tomorrow, while they change venue. Then we’ll see what we find.”

 

***

 

The 9am presentation began as expected. As Chloe took her seat beside Lucifer on the back row, where they had the best vantage to view the modest one hundred or so crowd crammed into the beige conference room, a series of inspirational pictures appeared on screen. Each picture was a metaphorical natural setting that slowly faded into the next: a winding uphill mountain trail of struggle cross-faded into the sunlight of opportunity peeking through canopy trees; into a entrepreneurial woman wearing a rock-climbing harness and climbing a sheer rock face; into the snowy view from a mountain summit, no doubt the pinnacle of metaphorical business risk-taking.

Beside her, Lucifer whispered, “Perhaps they want us to go camping.”

The screen froze and dimmed on the mountain peek and Laura Reeves, a brightly dressed woman of around forty wearing pink jeans, Louboutin heals and a green floral blouse, strode on stage.

“Risk! It can be terrifying, yet without embracing it we cannot stride forward!” Laura boomed into the microphone, making eye contact with the crowd. “I’m sure most of you are expecting a wonderful speech on the benefits of risk, and there will be that, but I also want to help you recognise bad risks. Risk-taking isn’t about taking any and all risks. It’s about taking the right risk at the right time. Over this course, I’ll help you to assess problems, minimise unnecessary risks and take bite-sized approach to off-putting tasks.”

“I don’t understand all this risk-avoiding you humans do,” Lucifer whispered in Chloe’s ear. “If you desire something, pursue it!”

“It’s not always painless.”

Lucifer gave her a meaningful look. “Because of your trust issues? And your allergy to fun?”

“No!” Chloe shushed, fighting the urge to strangle him in front of a conference room full of witnesses. “Sometimes people are scared to lose what we do have.”

Lucifer gazed back at her, brown eyes bewildered, because clearly this was one of those times he had no self-awareness.

At the front stage, the presentation segwayed into a series of case studies, the first two were about captains of industry; the next about personal risk. It was story of Asuquo a young Nigerian boy, who knew he was gay from an early age and feared rejection by his family and friends (along with government persecution). One by one the slides outlined steps he took creating a charity providing support for those similarly scared and discouraged, and for some reason Chloe thought of Lucifer.

“You have a therapist,” Chloe said, keeping her volume low so as not to be overheard by the conference-goers around them. “You should talk to her about the wing reveal.”

“I did.” Lucifer twitched on his plastic seat. “Dr. Linda suggested, get this, I might be feeling ‘insecure’ after what happened!”

“Oh, she did huh? Crazy,” Chloe whispered sarcastically.

“Exactly! The Devil doesn’t get ‘insecure’! I’m not some pathetic cry-baby!” Lucifer hissed, and she took his hand to keep him from shouting. “I don’t need a box of hankies and a consoling little hug!”

“Being hurt. It’d be understandable.”

Lucifer snorted.

Watching the pictures flash up on screen, Chloe had a sudden thought, turning with difficulty in her hard-backed plastic chair. “You know you can show me your wings, right? It’s alright to share all of yourself with people who care about you. I’m here for you.”

“I prefer you the right side of doolally.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Chloe whispered. 

Lucifer gave her a sceptical look.

Chloe patted his leg. “I’ve seen them before.”

“But not more than a swift peek. A mere glimpse at them. You can’t fathom how you’d react to a good stare. You can’t know what you’d think of me!”

“Do you really think seeing your wings will remind me of who you are, and I’ll reject you? That when I look at you I wouldn’t first and foremost see my partner, someone I implicitly trust? I thought you knew by now, you deserve to be accepted completely. You know you can confide what’s bothering you, right?”

Lucifer avoided her gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly and she hoped he wouldn’t deflect.

Then he murmured, “My balls. They’re killing me.”

“Ew.” Chloe moved her hand off his knee. “So gross.”

After the case studies, Laura set them a “elative sort of ‘meet and greet’ exercise” where the attendees had to go around the room sharing a risk-taking experience: one time where the risk paid off and talk about the steps they took to make that happen. This gave the perfect opportunity to catch Laura one on one (or two on one really) and Chloe pointed her out to Lucifer as the woman stepped down off the stage. She led him through the rows of plastic chairs, avoiding eye contact and weaving between groups of people until she faux-casually arrived at the stage.

“Laura” Chloe said, attracting the woman’s attention. “My friend and I just wanted to say how pleased we are, you ran the course. Must have been challenging, with your recent loss?”

“I had to, so to speak, can’t let down these fabulous risk-takers. You wonderful businesspeople rely on me.”

“Must’ve been tough. Being so near when it happened?”

“To think I was on the very same floor. And I did nothing.” Laura’s voice wavered.

Still no alibi, then. Chloe nodded to Lucifer, indicating now was a good time for his eye-whammy-desire power, and Lucifer stepped in close to Laura.

“I know your business type: it’s always about the work. Was he really that important to you?” Lucifer leant in holding eye contact, voice dropping to a deep purr. “Or was there something else? Something you desire more than anything else? What do you see at night when you close your eyes?”

Laura’s stare took a far off quality. “I see...I...see Trailblazer Solutions expanding into Europe, hosting fabulous conferences in all the major cities. Becoming the premier business conference operator. Launching my own app, helping anyone no matter their money situation. Offering free courses at schools. Starting them young. Then TS’s own fabulous weekly segment on Business Tonight. And Ben and I, we would have done it all together! My poor Ben! Poor sweet Benjamin!” Laura pulled a pink silk hankie from her pocket, dabbing her eyes.

“What’s going on!” said a booming voice behind Chloe, and she turned to find Samuel Turner, a stocky bear of a man who she recognised as Chairman from the TS brochure, glaring at Lucifer.

“Just a few questions,” Chloe said.

Ignoring her, Samuel stood toe to toe with Lucifer who bristled at the implied threat. Samuel dwarfed her usually tall-looking partner, towering over him by at least four inches, and stretching nearly twice as broad as Lucifer. His hands were fisted and shaking in rage. Surreptitiously, Chloe stepped into his blind spot, preparing to tackle the large man if he made a threatening move towards her partner.

Naturally, Lucifer was no help, casually sneering at the enraged man in a manner suggesting he was enjoying himself, hands held loosely at his sides. Yet he glared like wounded-animal, making the hairs on Chloe’s arms stand and her heart pound to look at him. Though his face appeared calm, his eyes were wild.

Preparing herself to spring, she hoped she wouldn’t have to arrest anyone, especially not her partner.

“I can’t stand rubberneckers.” Samuel poked Lucifer’s chest. “You leave Laura alone.”

“Ooo protective are we?” Lucifer smirked, looking the man up and down, then his voice dropped low. “Got feelings for this one? Wanted to be the Chairman of her Board, did you? Come on, you can tell me...”

Samuel blinked rapidly, gaze becoming unfocussed. “I...I...”

“What do you desire right now?”

 “I...I...want...I want...Ben back. He was my best friend. He should be alive now, bitching about room sizes and up-selling our add-ons. I wish things were back like before. I want Ben! I want him back!”

Samuel gave a strangled sob, as a pink blush crept up his neck and his fists shook. Apparently unable to hold on any longer, he burst into blubbering howls, tears streaming down his cheeks, and dripping to the floor.

Lucifer leapt back. “Bloody Hell!”

 

***

 

For the next half hour, Chloe concentrated on solo non-interview interviews, since it was more efficient if she and her partner separately worked the room (which meant she’d turned around to find he’d vanished, again, leaving her to seemingly map the whereabouts of tens of people all alone).

Was it idiotic that though she couldn’t see him in the crowded room she trusted he was interviewing people, rather than, say, granting them favours, seducing them or doing God knows what?

As she moved around the room hearing people’s risks, she learnt she was clearly the most risk-averse person in the building. Some stories were oddly fascinating. One woman was launching a business selling purple cupcakes, which were all purple no matter the cupcake’s flavour. A man had created a dating app matching people based on the likes and dislikes of their pets. Other stories left Chloe wistful, like woman who talked movingly about her first time showing her boyfriend scars from an old motorbike accident. Or the husband who reconciled with his future wife after she’d gotten cold feet.

And they’d faced setbacks. Chloe told herself it was okay for those sorts of people who thought next time would be different. In her experience, next time was always the same as last time. Deep down there was a small part that still hoped but, she told herself, by now she should know better.

She found Lucifer back at their seats, holding court with a weezel-like man who was complaining about his shipping container problems. As she reached him, she bristled at the words “banned substance”, “import” and “illegal.” The rodent-like man concluded by saying, “And the goods keep getting stuck at customs.”

“You haven’t found the right corrupt official. Bribery works wonders.” Lucifer glanced at Chloe. “Or so I imagine.”

She waited until the man has scuttled away, disappearing amongst the groups of chatting people, and then leant in to Lucifer, whispering, “You got anything?”

“Just the usual businessperson jam. Six attended the course to better themselves. Three unfeasibly wish their current boss to die of envy and guilt. Two desire the new Lamborghini Veneno and who can blame them? Though I’m more of a classics man myself. And one chap wants to sleep on a ‘pile of woman and money’.”

“They see anything?”

Lucifer looked pleased with himself. “Actually, one fellow spotted our vic’ and Little Miss Cold Fish in a heated argument, mere hours before his untimely demise.”

“She forgot to mention that in her statement.” Chloe took out her notebook and quickly jotted down the details. She’d certainly be following up that lead once the Tasha Sanders made bail. “But it doesn’t tie her to his death. Why were they arguing?”

“Something about closing accounts and transferring money.”

“Money, again? Everything comes back to that.”

“Well, you humans do worship the stuff!”

“I’ll flag it up to Dan. Ask him to keep an extra eye out. He’s not found much in their books yet but says the business turns a surprisingly large profit.” Chloe scribbled the note in her book. “In the meantime, we’ll keep running down leads here, and wait for the vic’s body to surface.”

 

***

 

Two days later, Chloe stood over Ben Anderson’s newly discovered corpse. Squatters had discovered him in this office, ten miles from her crime scene, and she had high hopes he’d provide solid DNA evidence. She was surrounded by four or five uniformed cops milling around bagging evidence, when Lucifer finally arrived, walking stiffly, shoulders tense, and looking tightly wound. He stepped around the dead man, barely glancing down, and headed for Chloe’s side.

“There you are, Detective!” Lucifer exclaimed, dodging around a huddle of crime scene techs and cops, sounding relieved. “I’ve a question I’ve been meaning to ask. How do you deal with your celibacy sitch?”

Around her, the cops turned to stare and Chloe felt herself blush.

“I do not have a ‘sitch’!” Chloe shushed, barely controlling her volume. “You don’t know that!”

“Sure you do,” Lucifer said. “Maze told me.”

“You and Maze discuss my sex life!”

“Your tragic lack of one, yes.” Lucifer nodded. “She didn’t mean to. But I guess it’s glaringly apparent that-”

“Come here!” Chloe dragged Lucifer by the arm into an abandoned closet, away from her colleagues’ snickers.

 After firmly shutting the door, she turned to face him. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m after tips, I already told you that! Is it affecting you too?”

“You’re being totally inappropriate. At a crime scene, really?!”

“But how do you humans manage? I mean, my powers don’t affect you but even so, how do you contain yourself? Are you on prescription?”

Chloe worked hard not to roll her eyes. He didn’t mean to be so very, very him. In fact he was now staring at her with innocent wide brown eyes. “No, Lucifer. I don’t need special tranquillising in your presence.”

“You’re no help then!” Lucifer said, pouting out the grimy window. “It’s undoubtedly your overall exasperating goodness: your captivating poise, the way you arrest scores of malfeasant ne'er-do-wells and never deliver a punitive nose jab. Your fortitude: day after day heroically persisting in living with Maze. Plus, of course, your indomitable strength of will.”

Honestly, what was she meant to do with statements like that? With him? He obviously hadn’t meant to compliment her. It was just the truth as he saw it.

 

***

 

In the cold light of day she could tell herself ‘nope, not happening,’ she was definitely not finding herself attracted to her errant partner, but that night in sleep, her mind drifted into dangerous territory.

In her dream, she floated voyeuristically through Lucifer’s penthouse and found him splayed naked across his bed, nestled among black silk sheets, white wings stretching out on either side. She found something sinful about a powerful archangel displaying his wings, lit with the Lord’s divine power, and masturbating. Lucifer lazily stroked himself where he was hardest and most obviously in need of relief; breath hitching as his thumb repeatedly brushed his cock’s sensitive tip. His panting became loud and irregular. He was getting close. His hand moved faster, movements becoming wanton and sloppy, and his glorious wings trembled as though shaken by an increasing breeze. The feathers stretched and quivered as Lucifer brought himself closer and closer, until-

Chloe woke.

She sat up in bed, hot with embarrassment (and perhaps, if she was completely honest, otherfeelings).

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> An accidental wing reveal has left Lucifer temporarily celibate and also wary of letting anyone close to him see his wings.  
> Meanwhile, Lucifer's sitch has caused Chloe to have a sex dream about him. 
> 
> The case: The Chief Financial Officer of a company offering risk strategy seminars has been murdered. As the man was killed struggling over a mysterious second set of financial ledgers, Chloe and Lucifer have gone undercover as conference goers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so chap 2 took a bit longer than expected, but it's also 1/3 longer so...well.

 

The wing-dream was not her last. Over the next three nights Chloe became hot and bothered as new and varied sex dreams about her rebellious partner plagued her sleep hours. She blamed Lucifer and his ‘sitch,’ because only he could somehow ruin her piece of mind. Maddening her in sleep now too. Because this was 100% his fault!

And yet, the most unsettling dream was not sexual.

The dream began on the beach. She’d sprawled between Mom and God, a white-haired elderly gentleman resembling a department store Santa, in the backseat of Lucifer’s Corvette which somehow accommodated four people, one picnic basket, a full plate set, and a red and white gingham blanket. All despite the Corvette not having a backseat.

Lucifer, wearing a scarlet tee-shirt that read ‘Naughty but Nice’, had packed the picnic basket but opened it to find all his selections replaced. Apparently, God was unhappy with his son’s choices so chose for him.

God presented Lucifer with a huge slice of Angel Food Cake and an extra-large dollop of Miracle Whip, sparking a quarrel (“How dare you assume to know MY order!”) that quickly got out of hand as Lucifer and God yelled at each other about beings choosing their own sugary treats vs. long-term dietary planning. And Lucifer stormed away along the white sands of the beach, a lone spec swallowed by the horizon.

 _ _How__ _ _dare__ _ _God presume to order for him! How dare he!__ Chloe fumed.

Leaping out the car, she snatched Lucifer’s cake plate. He could enjoy it later! On his own terms! If and when he was ready! Lucifer deserved choice! He'd worked hard for it! He needed it!

He-

Chloe woke, hands trembling with rage.

In that moment if God himself, in all his almighty, all-powerful self-satisfied glory, had materialised in her bedroom she’d have certainly slapped him.

Then there were her other dreams.

In one, she dreamt of having sex out on Lucifer’s balcony, under a clear crisp night’s sky, beneath the stars he once lit. Their twinkling light shone brightly, telling tales of the passion and creativity and joy of the man in her arms.

At odds with the now tranquil sky above, Lucifer kissed wantonly, lips swollen by the attention he’d already trailed across her naked body. He expressed his fervour in every shaky movement, shoulder muscles straining with every thrust and yet gazed down at her with wondering brown eyes.

It was peaceful in his arms, only their panting filled the night air, sheltered from the muted traffic below and from the prying gaze of anyone unlucky enough not to have a private balcony high above the city of the angels.

And their own angel.

Or Devil.

In another, Chloe dreamt her wayward partner frustrated her so much she dragged him into the precinct evidence locker, finally, finally finding a way to keep her chatty friend quiet.

The narrow evidence storage room was a nearly public place, with their colleagues working on the other side of the wood door: where any loud movement or call of her name would cause officers to rush in, discovering her on her knees in front of him.

He would need to stay quiet.

Not that discovery bothered him; no, he’d keep quiet because it mattered to her.

Lucifer’s head lolled against the door, dark-eyed gaze minutely focussed on her as she sucked his erection. His gripped the grey evidence shelves flanking her, as he struggled to keep quiet. Their whining metal took the brunt of his supernatural strength, warping in the imprint of two clenched fists.

She quickly found a fast rhythm he clearly enjoyed, careful to always drag her tongue across his sensitive tip, causing his hips to spasm and jerk. His hips shuddered, rattling the door. So she placed a hand on his waist, holding him in place, and he shot her a grateful look.

She worked him for some time, hollowing her cheeks as she slid him in and out her mouth, repeatedly dragging her lips over his sensitive swollen head.

His stomach muscles fluttered beneath her hand.

He was clearly straining under the effort to be quiet: muffled gasps escaping through tightly-pressed lips; breathing quick but hushed; grunting every time her tongue brushed his sensitive tip; his tightening grip causing the metal shelves on either side to whine...

...and with a stifled groan he came.

 

***

 

Chloe dreamt of him over and over, every night. Night after night. And, she told herself, some were things she’d never do...

 _ _No wait! She’d never do__ _ _any__ _ _with Lucifer! None, absolutely none!__ Time and again she woke: body sweaty, sensitive, and wired to the touch. She’d turn over, willing herself back to sleep, and tell herself ‘nope, that’s the last: not happening,’ then there’d be a new dream. Something fresh. A new place to be alone with her mischievous friend: slowly unzipping him as they sat side by side in his beloved Corvette; riding him on Maze’s sex swing, making sure he knew she was in charge; laid back on his treasured piano, at his mercy, with his head between her thighs.

Perhaps Lucifer’s ‘sitch’ was catching? What if it worked like sympathy pregnancy pains? Yup, that was it. She was not considering sleeping with her excitable Labrador puppy of a partner! She simply had...sympathy horniness.

Things would be normal once Lucifer’s ‘situation’ was over. She was just responding to his unconscious cues. Afterward, she’d be cured of her...whatever.

Best focus on something else. Anything else...

__The case!_ _

__Best focus on the case._ _

After all, it wasn’t like she should consider sleeping with her errant partner. Nope. That would end badly!

 

***

 

“You never know until you try,” Laura said, striding out onto centre stage, past the dark screen that formed her backdrop. Around Chloe, the conference-goers appeared rapt, all eyes focussed forward on Laura, who stood still in her purple and orange swirled tunic dress, allowing an incredibly long showman’s pause. “True words; easy to say. But often it’s the most personally meaningful opportunities that are most daunting. Maybe you’re naturally cautious. Maybe bad past experience like bankruptcies or firings or stock crashes, have taught you to avoid similar risks? We’re a species with a wonderfully strong flight or flight response and, clever little things that we are, we’ve learnt to recognise and anticipate patterns as a way of saving ourselves heartache. Also known as ‘borrowing trouble’ or...” With a hand wave, Laura clicked the remote and the word ‘FEAR’ materialized in large white letters on the screen behind her. “Fear of losing what we have.”

Laura allowed a dramatic pause so long, Chloe wondered if she’d forgotten her speech.

“Fortunately, as you’ve learnt, with a growth mindset there are strategies, and so I present the Trailblazer Golden Umbrella Phrase: ‘Meaningful Strategic Risk.’ In our final days...”

Chloe groaned. Time was rapidly catching up. They were still looking for the major break in their case. And they still had half the audience still to canvass.

She tuned back in to Laura saying, “...so we’ll focus on wonderfully coalescing ‘Meaningful strategic risk’ in your consciousness.”

Chloe glanced around the auditorium at the hundred or so conference goers surrounding her, most bent over scribbling notes. Lucifer was sat on black plastic chair, beside her on the back-row, and disinterestedly fiddling with an unlit cigarette. If anyone should know about “strategic risk” it was him, as his celibacy ‘sitch’ had him strategically taking no risk.

Chloe noted tension in Lucifer’s be-suited shoulders and the rigid way he held himself: posture stiff and upright against the seat backrest. Was it weird to be concerned for him and his sitch?

During the morning speeches, she’d noticed Lucifer usually looked seat-squirming-ly on edge as he fiddled with an endless array of noisy objects: dropping several expensive fountain pens; clicking his lighter; screwing and unscrewing his hipflask; fondling his cigarette case; rustling an especially crinkly packet of Cool Ranch Puffs. Chloe had confiscated the chips, hipflask and many pens (returning them at the day’s end, when he solemnly promised better behaviour). But she knew he was feeling unbearably pent-up when he preened. One morning he’d groused a late night visit from Lux’s drinks wholesaler had left him sleepless (“Detective, she gave me the ‘Hard sell!’”), then spent their entire drive smoothing invisible shirt wrinkles, then adjusting his cufflinks, then brushing imaginary lint from his suit trousers.

She knew this situation was unprecedented for him and had quietly resolved to keep her teasing to a bare minimum (only when he especially frustrated her with his Luciferness) besides he’d been aggravated enough by Maze’s predictable response to the Devil’s celibacy (“She laughed.”).

All in all, his commitment to being “a responsible Devil” left Chloe oddly proud.

 

***

 

The morning passed with few opportunities to canvass the remaining potential witnesses, instead her psyche was battered by more and more pro-risk messages: famous quotes; ‘growth mindset’ lectures; conducting a Strengths Weaknesses Opportunities Threats analysis on her completely fictitious business; case studies like Nate Woodland who overcame his bad investment reputation as his new mature approach showed the naysayers wrong (“proving himself worthy of a second chance”). She’d squabbled with Lucifer in the ‘investment choice’ exercise, where pairs had to identify the one potential successful business from the other five. Of course, Lucifer’s contribution said more about him than the companies (“Who invests with some poor sap they can’t interrogate?!”; “History’s a non-issue. No one steals from the Devil!”). Then Samuel announced the results, surprising her by proving them both wrong (“Or both right, Detective.”) as all six examples were based on real struggling companies that had reversed their fortunes.

__So why not take risks? Be more impulsive? Maybe next time would be different?_ _

Chloe had to admit the seminars were affecting her. So what now? Would she find herself compelled to leave the dishes overnight? Or, launch a knitting business? Or trade stocks? Buy a Spanish timeshare? Let Maze teach Trixie knife defence? Allow Mom to set her up with one of her industry friends?

Just that morning she’d gone to order her usual coffee, but for some reason, came away with a full fat latte with regular caramel drizzle and extra whipped cream. The latte was delicious and troubling.

At midday they broke for lunch and Chloe could finally call the station for a sneaky update. She spoke to Dan for several minutes, then Ella for ten more, jotted notes, and returned to update her partner on the case findings so far, to find Lucifer arguing with a bald red-faced angry man.

In response to whatever the man had said, Lucifer pointed at himself. “Broke Dad’s rules; escaped Hell. The Devil is the original risk taker. I’m all about following life’s little temptations.”

“You think you’re the Devil!” The man shouted.

Lucifer opened his mouth, but Chloe got there first, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Because he is the Devil. But first and foremost, I see him as my friend.”

Blinking rapidly, Lucifer gave her his patented Lucifer Morningstar ‘overwhelmed-by-someone-being-nice-to-me look.’ Then a smile spread across his face, widening his soulful brown eyes.

Giving Lucifer a moment to collect himself, Chloe watched the angry man bob down the stairs, muttering something that sounded like “L.A. nutbars”, and disappear into the throng of people crowding the catering table. Most balanced paper plates and plastic cups, a few darting back and forth through the wall of moving bodies like scavenger birds. The angry man re-emerged, by sliding between two statuesque men and Chloe figured she’d given her partner enough time.

She gently shoulder-bumped him. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, huh?”

“I was canvassing the natives.”

“Please don’t say, you found the suspect with the most ‘murder-y eye brows’?”

“That was a solid lead. It’s not my fault you won’t use my expertise.”

“I arrest people based real evidence. Not your male grooming tips.”

“Fine, fine,” Lucifer said, looking put out. “But you should put a tail on him anyway. Even if he’s not our killer, he must have done something. Miserable sod probably eats tofu. Or, pushes all the buttons in lifts.”

“Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. I’ll get right on that.”

Lucifer pointed down the stairs at the red-faced man trying to eat an entire sausage roll whole. “Actually, Mr Angry did have one fascinating tid bit: claimed our intrepid speaker Laura isn’t nearly the successful businesswoman she claims. Said their peer-mentoring was cancelled three times, due to low numbers.”

“Mentoring program?” Chloe made a note on her exercise book. “Interesting. That rings a bell but I just can’t...place it.”

“You’re having one of your ‘gut feelings,’ aren’t you?”

“More like half of one.”

Beside her, Lucifer exaggeratedly peered around the room (in a way he no doubt thought subtle) gauging the four or five conference-goers dotted about the nearest seat rows were busy scoffing sandwiches.

Lucifer shifted on his black plastic seat and whispered, “About the Invisible Businessman’s disappointingly visible dead body. Has Miss Lopez discovered anything? Any pernicious little clues?”

“Ella says his wounds are few but deep: consistent with an argument that overheated. Confirming our ‘crime of convenience’ theory. Our victim wouldn’t have bled out so quickly if the killer hadn’t grazed the carotid.” Checking their whispered conversation was still going unnoticed, as people dotted around her networked, Chloe turned her head whispering in his ear, “Ella did recover DNA from an arm scratch. But results aren’t back for over a week.”

“Don’t they know, we have a bad guy to punish?”

Chloe sighed. “Lab’s backed up. Johnson’s got a quadruple homicide.”

“Johnson.” Lucifer snickered. “Always gets me. And even you must admit; the man’s a bit of a Johnson.”

“Either way, we can’t wait for D.N.A. results. At the next group exercise we step up our canvassing.”

 

***

 

Unfortunately, another presentation came next (how could there be so many, Chloe wondered). On stage, Laura had reappeared and was talking beside the screen, pointing at colourful pie chart representing...something. Chloe tuned back in to hear Laura say, “...Sometimes the best possibilities go ignored. Possibilities that are here right now. That perfect merger. That great acquisition. Opportunity could be staring you in the face!”

Lucifer’s hand waved in front of her, bringing her attention to his wide brown eyes.

He stared expectantly and she realised he must have asked a question.

“Sorry, Lucifer. I was miles away.” Chloe lowered her voice. “I think I tuned you out. What were you saying?”

Lucifer looked mildly exasperated. “Really. And you tell me to pay attention!”

He leant in close, clearly meaning to whisper. But his nearness was overwhelming: barraging her with sudden, alarming sensations. The smouldering-heat of him made her skin tingle. His fingers brushing against her elbow sent a quiver through her body. On her plastic seat, Chloe squirmed in sudden, unwanted arousal. “Just, back up! Okay.”

“Detective, have I done something to upset you? Do you want to...talk about it?” Lucifer’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “The last few days you’ve seemed more on edge...?”

Lucifer cocked his head to one side. His brown-eyed gaze scrutinised her, from her face down to her feet, in a way that had her feeling exposed to him. She felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks and knew the second he realised as a wide smile spread across his face and he positively beamed at her. Because of course, he would notice.

Chloe gave him her best serious-cop glare. “Stop grinning!”

“Because it’s turning you on?”

Chloe momentarily struggled for words. “...No! It’s not...I’m not...I’m worried we haven’t found our next lead yet. I’m simply-”

“Aggravated? Frustrated? Tense?” Lucifer dropped his voice to a rumbling whisper that caused heat to pool in her abdomen, and pointed at himself. “You can’t hide from your partner. We’re a crime solving super-team. A sexy dynamic duo. You should have told me you had your own sitch. It’s marvellous news! We could be partners/friends who scratch each other’s naked itches.”

Chloe let out a sigh. At least he hadn’t realised it was him affecting her. That was something. Then she had a thought. “What about your wings?”

“You mean Dad’s celestial cock-block? His hilarious joke on his former-favourite son?” Lucifer’s agitated voice rose loud in her ear and she could hear the hurt beneath his anger. Slowly, Chloe stroked his fingers, gently calming him until his breathing slowed to a normal rate. Then he said, “You know my sitch. If I feel my wings about to make a reality-altering entrance, I’ll simply stop, or ask you to shield your eyes.”

“I don’t need your...itch relief.”

“Beg to differ, Detective,” Lucifer mumbled quietly in her ear, low enough she was certain the other conference goers wouldn’t hear. “You’re in clear need of a lengthy itch scratch. As your responsible partner, I can’t let you exist in this wretched doleful state. Besides it’s about time you tasted my forbidden fruit.”

__Oh._ _

__Well, that...wow._ _

“Lucifer, we’re solving a murder!”

“Right. You’re right.” Lucifer nodded. “Tonight then.”

“No. Not tonight!” 

Lucifer smirked. “If you’re too pent-up to wait, there’s always the bag-check closet. Shielded from prying eyes. Bit cramped, but the coat-rail looks sturdy.”

Chloe tried not to sigh or roll her eyes. He’d given the closet scenario detailed thought.

And now he looked so...pleased with himself.

So smug.

“Well...” Chloe leant in right beside his ear, giving him her huskiest whisper as she walked her fingers up the outside of his thigh. “You do have something I...need.”

Brushing her fingertips across his white silk shirt, she was rewarded with a full body shudder, and as she slid her hand under his navy suit jacket, his breath hitched.

Chloe pulled back, triumphantly waving a black fountain pen. “Mine’s running low.”

Lucifer blinked rapidly, then grinned. “Bravo! Well played.”

He smiled happily at her while he preened himself back into shape: smoothing down his jacket and white shirt; brushing imaginary dirt off the suit trousers; and minutely adjusting his cufflinks. Once he apparently considered himself presentable he settled casually back against his chair.

Chloe grinned at him. He was adorably him. Many people would be irritated with her, instead he was proud. She knew he relishing their banter, having a worthy partner, relishing her getting one over on him almost as much as she did. It was one of the many reasons she enjoyed working with him.

 

***

 

There were other reasons too. Lucifer was always on the same page as her when it mattered. And she could rely on him to value her instincts.

Throughout their late-afternoon refreshment break, Chloe found her gaze drawn to the sales table beside the entranceway, retailing various Trailblazer Solutions mountain peak key chains, stationary, binders, etc. Also expensive packages of networking events, ‘Off the Beaten Path’ peer-mentoring programs like the one Mr Angry had complained about and much more.

She watched as conference goers browsed the table, often chatting to ‘Cindi’ who manned the stall in a low cut top and pencil skirt, but they all seemed disinterested.

“You’ve solved your hunch!” Lucifer said, appearing at her elbow, and how did he know just from looking at her?

Chloe pointed at the sales table. “I just called and checked. Dan says the books list half of TB’s income from add-ons.”

“Really?” Lucifer looked confused. “Then, they’re having a dreadfully slow day. No money’s changed hands.”

“Unless this is the norm?” Chloe said. “Trailblazer’s biggest sellers are memberships and networking events: where there’s no physical product. It‘d be easy inflating their reported sales, if say you had money to launder.”

Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Explains the dead guy’s second ledger.”

“Let’s confirm it with ‘Cindi’.”

Watching Lucifer approach, Cindi leant forward on the desk, pressing her breasts together, angling her ample cleavage at him and for a brief moment Chloe hoped she was the murderer.

Lucifer dragged his gaze up to Cindi’s face. “Hello Darling. My...associate and I couldn’t help notice your abysmal sales. So sad.” Lucifer pulled his faux sympathy face.

“No, mister. I sell tons. Can’t keep it on the shelves.”

“But not today?” Chloe said.

“All days.” Cindi glared. “We gots tons of stock backstage. Boxes and boxes. Gots to order more every other day.” “Come now,” Lucifer said, sounding irritated. “I despise counterfeits, fraudsters, charlatans.”

Chloe squeezed his arm, indicating she wanted to tag in. “Cindi, we know you’re not telling truth. It’s alright to say if someone’s threatening you to do wrong. You’re just trying to earn a living, like everyone else. It’s okay to tell us.”

“I ain’t talking with you.” Cindi crossed her arms and pressed her lips together so tightly they paled.

“You can’t enjoy this deception.” Lucifer held eye contact with Cindi, voice dropping low. “Darling, what do you truly desire? What-”

“I want my own distillery. We’d use white oak barrels.” "Oh! Not a complicated one!”

Cindi stood, clasping both hands over her mouth, and ran out the exit.

“Shame,” Lucifer said, watching the double doors swing shut. “Admirable desire. World could use more whiskey.”

 _ _Great. So they had nothing__.

Shaking her head, Chloe lead Lucifer past Cindi’s table, out the double doors and into the entrance corridor running parallel with the stage. “We need to contradict Cindi’s stock claims. Prove Trailblazer’s official books are lies. I’ll get Dan-”

“Or...” Lucifer smirked, pointing to a door halfway down the hallway marked ‘Employees only.’ “We could take a naughty sneak peak backstage.”

“Wait!” Chloe touched his arm, and he stopped walking. “If we get caught, it’ll blow our cover! And the entire investigation. I’d be in so much trouble. We’ll have nothing for all the time spent, so...we’ll have to be quick.”

“Oooo Detective!”

At the door, she tried the handle: locked.

Damn. Chloe was just wondering if there was another door to try, when Lucifer leant past her and, in one smooth motion, opened the door.

He grinned. “After you.”

The backstage area was thankfully deserted and Chloe became aware she was exaggeratedly tiptoeing through the room like a weirdo, while Lucifer simply strolled beside her.

On one side of the room, black tunnels led to the stage wings/entrance, on the other dark walls and rubber flooring stretched back to where Chloe could just make out part of a green couch and a ratty-looking coffee table. Their room contained only a lone cardboard box sat beside an unmarked wood door.

Chloe knelt beside the box, prying open its flaps to find it half-full of the various colourful trinkets.

Seriously! This was their great stock of add-ons!

Crouching beside her, Lucifer extracted an invoice and, after perusing it, waved the paper in front of her. The invoice was addressed to Financial Assistant Tasha Sanders and dated three months earlier. And they still had stock left. Wherever that half of their income came from, this proved it wasn’t legitimate sales.

“It won’t get us a warrant,” Chloe said, pocketing the invoice. “But it’s enough to justify undercover surveillance on Tasha. If she placed the orders, she knows Ben’s books are fake. I bet whoever they laundered for, is looking for her now. And she’s getting released tonight.”

On the other side of the room where they’d entered, she deciphered two male voices. The voices grew louder as they no doubt came towards her only escape route: the door they’d entered.

 _ _Oh, God!__ They’d be caught!

__Oh, God!_ _

Instinctively, Chloe opened the mystery door beside her, grabbed Lucifer’s shirt and shoved him inside. Joining him, as she swung the door shut.

Darkness.

“This is officially the pokiest, skanky cleaning cupboard the Devil’s ever occupied,” Lucifer’s deep voice said, warm breath brushing the back of her neck and ear.

There was an electronic pop sound, presumably from Lucifer’s cell phone, and dim blue light on either side of her illuminated the tiny room.

The closet was about the size of an outside window ledge, barely enough room to stand heal to toe with Lucifer. Struggling to turn her head, Chloe discerned a stack of plastic cleaning fluid bottles on one side, and a mop in the other.

On the other side of the door, footsteps and voices reverberated, getting louder until the voices were right outside. The rhythm sounded relaxed, like they were casually chatting. But that didn’t mean her and Lucifer were safe? The men could be discussing who’d mop the floor or which neon cleaning solution to use. She pressed her ear against the wood door. If only she make out what they’re saying. If only-

Chloe halted mid-wiggle as something pointy pressed against her lower back. She turned to find Lucifer looking at her with steady brown eyes, dark pupils blown wide. “Are you...?” She pointed down at his crotch.

“At half-mast? Yes, it’s the friction.”

“Oh?” Chloe said, and then realised maybe she should get off him. “Oh!”

She leapt back against door, giving him more space, not that there was much, while he smoothed down his shirt and suit trousers. “My apologies Detective. This should only take a moment,” Lucifer said, amusing her with his unexpected formality, as he gestured to his crotch. “Unless you want to...”

“No! No, we’ll just...wait.”

With him so close the cupboard around them started feeling very small, and he seemingly took up all the space. He was so close. And the heat of him...millimetres away. Close enough that if she just twitched her finger she’s be touching him; near enough to feel his hot shaky breath ghost across her cheek; and how his intoxicating scent filled her every breath. His skin smelled of fiery whiskey, layered over spiced aftershave and the faintest trace of volcanic rock. His warm scent made her pulse race.

 _ _Was it getting hot? Like, really hot?__ Chloe bit her lip, hoping he couldn’t see her blush.

“That’s not helping.”

***

 

Later that night...technically early the next morning, Chloe found herself sat in the surveillance van’s flickering blue-ish computer monitor glow, listening to Tasha Sander’s snoring through the uncomfortable rubber headphones. While she was glad her boss has approved surveillance so quickly, it meant more time alone with Lucifer, cramped together in what she was now realising was an unbearably close space.

Watching the monitor’s flickering lines registering Tasha’s rhythmic snorts, Chloe realised this was probably the most cramped she’d ever felt on a stakeout. The vans were always small, like this one, and like this one a long desk and computer bank stretched along one wall, she and Lucifer took up even more space, sat side by side in chairs he’d bought. Actually the chairs were nice. After their last stakeout these two giant cushioned black chairs with short arm rests had appeared in the van: plush; wide enough to seat even the Department’s heaviest cops; made of light-weight carbon fibre and foldable for easy storage. One benefit of a partner who expected comfort wherever he went.

Chloe turned watch Lucifer in his own plush black chair, leg splayed out disappearing under the computer table. She had to admit the van wasn’t really the problem. Since the cleaning closet, his masculine scent had lingered, clinging to her clothes and hair, and his graceful presence within touching distance wasn’t helping. Her skin felt tingly, and wired for touch. And yet they had to stay here together, with him uncomfortably near.

Chloe still thought staking out their main suspect was the way to go, with their dead guy permanently out of the money laundering game, the Russian mob she laundered for would be anxious to make contact. Just not tonight, she thought as her headphones emitted a loud sleep snort.

“Let’s give her a buzz,” Lucifer said, whipping out his cell phone.

Chloe stopped his hand mid-dial. “You’d call our main suspect? I thought you’d gotten the hang of this.”

“Well, I wouldn’t talk to her! Just wake her up.”

“Sure, she’ll wake at...3:24am and think ‘Hey, better go call those violent criminals I work with!’”

“Well, no but being conscious would certainly help!”

Chloe glared at his smug face.

“And I’m boooooooooooooorrrd!” Lucifer said, as though she actually enjoyed being stuck in cramped van when she could be tucked up warm in bed.

“Well we have to stay until Dan and Simkin’s shift, in...” Chloe checked her watch, suppressing a sigh. “In just over four hours. Simkin’s mob CI said the Russians are eager to check their money’s still secure. He thinks there’ll be contact within forty-eight hours. So the Lieutenant wants a team on her at all times.”

Simkin had struck gold with his informant, Chloe thought. Once she’d realised their victim laundered money, Simkin’s guy confirmed Ben Anderson as a money launder for the Russians, recognising him by sight (though not name) and while he didn’t know Tasha Sanders, Chloe thought the invoice coupled with Tasha’s position in the Trailblazer made her the undoubted accomplice.

Returning to the matter at hand she realised the one thing she hoped he’d do with her (well, okay, the other thing she wanted to do with him). “If you’re looking to occupy yourself, you could always...show me your wings.”

“Here?!”

“As good a place as any.” Chloe shrugged, trying to look casual. “And you deserve-”

“Don’t presume to know what I deserve!” Lucifer’s voice rose. “As for my wings: I prefer your lovely brains unscrambled! And if I show anyone else, I’ll need Dr Linda on full time retainer!”

Oh.

He really thought there was no chance she’d react well.

Chloe stroked his hand where it lay on his armrest. “I thought you accepted my reaction?”

“Well, yes! But that was before...”

“Before the Brittanys?”

Lucifer looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“Friends appreciate each other as they are. I know you don’t think you deserve it, but you do. I know who you are and you’re my friend.”

Lucifer opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide in confusion. “But Detective, you’re a detective! You of all people must realise that makes no sense! No sense at all! I don’t understand how you could...” Lucifer leap up and paced in the confined space beside his chair, striding between the monitors and the metal wall and back, gazing off as though mentally ranting to himself. “I mean...why would you?! You’re so good, and...I, well I’m...have you forgotten who I am? Are you in denial?” Lucifer halted, brown eyes scrutinising her. “Denial’s an ‘unhealthy coping mechanism for fears so overpowering the person can’t admit them’. Dr Linda says it can be terribly strong, and the person may not know they have it.

“Um, pretty sure she wasn’t talking about me.”

Lucifer snorted. “Well, who else would she mean?! We were talking about me and you at the time!”

Wow, this was not easy!

Chloe didn’t know how Linda managed. Week after week. Month after month. __Maybe one day she’d be sainted?__

That gave Chloe a thought. “Linda knows and she accepted you.”

“I...I...” Lucifer looked helplessly from one hand to the other, clearly unable to articulate why things were different with Chloe.

“Maybe you’d prefer to show us together?”

Lucifer backed up until he was against the metal wall, chest heaving and brown-eyes wide. He stared warily at her like a cornered wounded animal and she realised he’d have escaped already if she hadn’t been sitting with her chair blocking the exit, leaving him backed into the other corner, wild eyes lit by the flickering multicoloured LED computer lights. She hadn’t meant to push him too hard, he obviously wasn’t ready.

Perhaps he never would be.

Moving slowly, with her hands up and palms outstretched, Chloe crept towards him and was disappointed when he stiffened. “You don’t have to answer now. I’m always here for you.”

 

***

 

The next hour passed in peace. Beside her, Lucifer leant over his phone immersed in some game that emitted an electronic fanfare after ever level. From the numerous electronic beeps, fanfares, and his sniggering, Chloe figured he was playing ‘Sex words with Friends’ or something similarly in his wheelhouse. She left him to it, forcing herself not to think about his apparent expertise: his very detailed expertise. Instead she distracted herself by mentally listed the case facts while listening, through the spongy headphones, to their main suspect toss and turn.

After a while, for something to do, Chloe leant across the long table, checking the cable connections and tuning the audio dials.

“You know, Detective,” Lucifer’s voice said conversationally. “When we finally have sex, you’ll wonder why you ever denied yourself”

She turned to find his gaze had drifted to her legs, and waved a hand at him.

Lucifer blinked rapidly. “What’s a little naked cuddling between friends?”

__Nope. Seriously not dealing with his nonsense!_ _

__Not right now._ _

Chloe perched on the console desk, watching how he lounged his chair, hands draped casually on the armrests. __So smug.__

Planning to tease him, Chloe leant into Lucifer’s personal space so she was inches from his face. His shaky breath warmed her lips. She stared into his hopeful-looking brown eyes, pupils dilated, and rested her hand on his chest, his body heat radiating though his white shirt.

Their panting sounded loud in the cramped van.

“I’m not having sex with you,” Chloe mumbled, staring into his darkened eyes.

“Doesn’t have to be sex. Plenty of other wonderful acts to keep us entertained.”

“I...I’m...” Chloe caught his expression of surprise as he realised she might be considering sex with him, and felt a surge of confidence. “It’d be one time only and doesn’t mean anything! Clear?! We’re just two friends-”

“Lending each other a hand?” Lucifer smirked. “Because friends help each other out.”

“Exactly. We’ll do this and then that’s that. We’re friends and professional colleagues.”

“So we’re clear Detective, you’re finally making a deal with the Devil.”

Ugh!

“Call it that...” Chloe hissed, “And it’s off.”

Lucifer’s grin widened. “I accept your little terms.”

His hands guided her back against the bumpy console buttons, while Chloe unplugged her headphones, and turned the volume low so she’d still know if Tasha woke.

She traced her fingers down Lucifer’s silk shirt, undoing the buttons and skimming the smooth skin beneath, while he slid off her skirt and panties and, in one smooth motion, lifted her onto his lap, straddling his thighs. She wondered if he felt her arousal soaking his suit trousers, already unzipped and revealing tented black boxer-shorts. He guided her hand to where his erection begged to be touched and she grasped his thick length, freeing him.

His cock trembled in her hand, already flushed and fully erect; balls swollen and heavy-looking.

Chloe felt a wave of sympathy for her friend. Poor Lucifer. He really did need this. She doubted he’d felt this horny before. No wonder he’d been on edge.

As she started stroking him, he grabbed her hand. “Wait! Stop.”

“What’s-”

“My wings. If they try making a special guest appearance...I have to stop...me, I mean.”

“Might not happen.”

“But, if it does...I stop.” Lucifer plastered on a smirk, but he looked nervous. “A night with me shouldn’t leave you praying to Dad. You shouldn’t be calling His name in worship. It’s bloody distracting! Glory-hogging bastard deserves none of the credit!”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Those are my terms.”

Chloe kissed his stubbly jaw. “Alright. That’s okay.”

Chloe shrugged off shirt and bra, bearing herself naked to him and revelled in rendering her chatty partner mute just by the sight of her straddling his thighs. He’s gazed at her with admiring brown eyes and she thought of warning him not to say anything embarrassing (like ‘Ding Dong, Detective!’) when he cleared his throat, and whispered “You’re beautiful.”

He gave her a wide grin, somehow looking boyish and innocent despite what his hands were doing, as he took the tip of his cock, slipping it between her wet folds, using her wetness to lubricate his swollen cockhead and slide it in circles against her clit. Every caress sent tingles of pleasure through her. He felt amazing: knowing his tender nerve endings brushed hers. That he’d offered himself as her sex toy. That it’s him, her kind-hearted adorably dorky partner getting her off.

“More...” Chloe panted. “Faster.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Always demanding.”

With one arm around her waist and the other maintaining the constant almost unbearable rhythmic pressure building in her clit, in one smooth motion Lucifer stood, flipping her against the soft chair back. She had her thighs wrapped around him, tilted to him, as he knelt on the chair and gently brushed his cock the length of her throbbing nerves. A shudder ran through him and she thrilled that he’d imagined thrusting inside her: that her wet warmth surrounded his dick.

He must’ve sensed she was close because he brushed himself faster and faster against her. The pleasurable rhythm was punishing, but she forced her eyes to stay open and focussed on him. Until she came, gasping his name.

He rewarded her with a passionate kiss.

Then as Lucifer trailed stubbly kisses along her collarbone, Chloe palmed herself where she was wettest, using it to lubricate his shaft, drawing a moan as he felt how wet she was. “Minx.”

She began a gruelling rhythm on his swollen length, with each stroke brushing his tip’s tender nerves. She worked him hard over the next few minutes, the Devil towering over her, panting hotly against her neck. He was clearly close and she pushed his chest so he sat back on his heels.

Lucifer caught on immediately. “You want to see me Darling! Marvellous!” And, panting as she continued working him, he leant back displaying his lean and muscular chest, and tilted his head to best display himself to her once he came. Even in the monitors’ blinking blue-ish light, he was an alluring sight: the way his arms braced the console desk, presenting an uninterrupted view from the neat darks curls where she stoked him, up toned trembling stomach muscles, across his heaving chest, to where his lips were swollen from kissing and his dark eyes hooded. He preened under her gaze. “Better?”

He was barely hanging on: hips shakily bucking, steadily meeting her gaze with unfeasibly-dark eyes, and ever careful to present himself at the best angle for her enjoyment.

He’s always generous, and oddly thoughtful in his own very-him way. How often had he ever gotten what he wanted? How many were generous in return? How many of his other lovers gave him the connection he sought? Chloe wondered, feeling saddened by the thought it was probably very few. How even cared what he needed?

“Tell me, Lucifer,” Chloe whispered. “What do you desire?”

His gaze flicked to her boobs and she knew. Summoning up acting skills Chloe though long forgotten, she angled him at her chest, whispering, “You want claim me? Do you want to cum all over me Lucifer? To soak my breasts?”

Lucifer cried out, brown eyes fluttering closed as he came, breath hitching with every spurt.

 

***

 

After, Lucifer disappeared for an entire day, leaving Chloe to team with Det. Montague for her surveillance shift. Then when her partner resurfaced he appeared wary, keeping a gap between them and although she’d expected constant comments about their moment or at least constant innuendo, he was strangely reserved. Instead he cast her scrutinizing glances whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to figure out her odd behaviour or worrying she’d suddenly cut and run, but she felt terrible.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> On a stakeout Lucifer and Chloe had sex but this was strictly a friends-with-benefits, one time only thing. Afterwards, Lucifer disapeared for an entire day.
> 
> The case- L & C suspect the Chief Financial Officer's murder is somehow connected to the money laundering opperation they've discovered at the risk-taking business where he worked. His assistant Tasha is invoilved and they've been staking out her home.

It hadn’t taken long to get the evidence they needed on Tasha Sander’s part in the dead man’s money laundering scheme. Dan and Simkin’s surveillance had Tasha on audio tape meeting her mafia contact, urging him to resume as soon as the murder investigation died down. As far as the laundering went, Chloe had everything she needed and more. Tasha even convinced the mafia they could funnel extra cash through Trailblazer Solutions’ books, as bosses Laura and Samuel were in the dark, and victim Ben was always too cautious.

So they knew a lot about Ben’s scheme, but nothing solid on his murder.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Dan, Chloe watched Tasha through the two way mirror into interrogation room one. It seemed Lucifer had aptly nicknamed Cold Fish, as the young woman sat at the metal desk passively listening to the audio tape of agreeing to money launder. Though she’d barely moved all through the first twenty minutes, Chloe could see her instincts paying off: the slight eye twitches suggested the young woman realised she’d been caught and her options were closing one by one. Chloe wanted her to fully realise her situation before she and Dan set foot in the interrogation room. Things would go much smoother once she realised her situation was hopeless, and as Tasha’s hands quivered on the desk, Chloe nodded to Dan: time to go in.

“So you’ve heard the tape, you know we’ve frozen your accounts, and by now you figure your buddy in interrogation room three is ratting you out,” Chloe said, sitting opposite Tasha across the metal table, as Dan pulled up his own chair beside her.

“He didn’t seem like the strong, silent type,” Dan added.

Tasha’s fingers trembled slightly, in a way Chloe wouldn’t have noticed had she not been expecting it.

“You and Ben had a good thing going, made tons of money. You must have been mad when he decided to take his share and run?”

“That’s when she murdered him,” Dan addressed Chloe.

Tasha’s face went slack.

“You think I...? I’d never. He started the whole thing. They’d be way, way easier with him here.” Tasha’s eyes went wide. “It wasn’t me! It was Sam.”

“They were best friends. Why would Samuel kill Ben?”

“He overheard me trying to get Ben to stay. And there was this whole big ‘drama’ about it.” Tasha said, using air quotes. “He was all like: blah, blah, blah Laura’s gonna be devastated; Trailblazer’s her life, blah, blah, blah; built it up from the ground blah, blah; how could you hurt her?”

“Sounds like he has feelings for her.”

“Oh, yeah. Sam had a major ‘thing’ for Laura. He’d do anything for her.”

Beside her Dan whispered, “Samuel’s leading today’s seminar.”

“Then I guess I’m going after all.”

 

***

 

After that, Tasha cracked: taking a plea bargain, signing a full confession to money laundering, implicating three low level employees at Trailblazer Solutions, as well as two mid-level mafia thugs. Crucially for Chloe, Tasha outlined in some detail Samuel’s motive for murder and his reaction to learning Ben was about to abscond with Laura’s hard-earned business funds.

The next two hours dragged in a boring flurry of paperwork, bitter vending machine coffee and waiting, while Chloe felt the familiar tense anticipation of catching her bad guy. While she waited for their warrant, Chloe called Lucifer leaving a cell message and another with Dispatch outlining their case break and asking him to meet her and whatever officers the Lieutenant could spare at Trailblazer Solution’s Headquarters.

 

***

 

Chloe had forgotten how ritzy Trailblazer’s frontage was and could easily understand why they preferred those to their more shabby temporary conference space. She peeked around the corner at the imposing building, a mixture of glass and brick, which ringed a stone courtyard and an actual fountain that took more floor space than her entire apartment, and stood opposite the sleek glass and steel building housing the Elite Modelling agency.  

Their patrol cars were parked beside the steel and glass of the agency, sheltering them from any view of Trailblazer (and vice versa). Their group attracted curious glances from several pretty young women entering the agency, while Chloe issued assignments. Dan and the unis would arrest three TB employees and confiscate evidence relating to the money laundering, some of which Ella would first fingerprint, while Chloe detained their killer.

Behind her, Chloe heard tires screech and turned to find Lucifer banging the Corvette door and striding over to her.

Lucifer signalled Dan. “Detective Douche, just the ex! Tell me, what does the Detective like to eat after sex?” Lucifer pointed her out, causing Ella to squeak and clasp her hands over her mouth. “The Devil always keeps a stock of fresh fruit and chilled Cristal. But should I have Patrick buy in something special?”

And he’s talking about her sex life...

...again!

Chloe felt her face flush.

Dan and the uniformed officers- was that Davies who’d heard last week’s celibacy announcement? -stared at her, while Ella did a strange sort-of excited-jig. There was already snickering from the officers in the background. How embarrassing. But at least it would squash those celibacy rumours.

“Really, man?!” Dan said glancing between the two of them.

“Here, now!” Chloe dragged Lucifer over to his corvette, far from the other officers, where they could speak privately. From the officer’s huddle, Dan offered her a tight grin, morphing from a I-could-have-done-with-this-being-less-public smile, to a but-if-you’re-happy-I-want-to-support-you-as-a-friend smile. Ella gave a cheery double thumbs-up.

“Not to worry Detective, I didn’t break our little deal.” Lucifer looked pleased with himself, and then baffled why she was giving him detective-glare. “I alluded to none of our fun sexy times, just all the wonderful rampant future sex.”

“It was a one-time thing. We agreed.”

“That was before.”

“You think I want to have sex with you again?”

“Well, yes! Not that that’s what I want...I mean...of course I want to...I absolutely want to...whenever you want...right now if you’re game. But I thought tonight you could join me at Tuscano’s: the owner owes me a favour and their quails-egg pasta with shaved truffle is magnificent. Then there’s this patch of beach I like to visit from time to time, where I embraced my only home and of course flipped Dad the bird. We’d take a stroll there, just the two of us.”

Oh, no.

Lucifer was giving her a nervous smile with wide brown hopeful eyes, and somehow she would have to break it to him they weren’t going to happen. She had to be crystal clear, and after this there could be no mixed messages. No sex. It wouldn’t be fair.

Chloe patted his arm. “The other night, I had a nice time-”

Lucifer snorted.

“Okay, so I had a really, really, really nice time, but this thing, between us, can’t happen. What you want and what I want are too different to try.” Chloe squeezed his arm. “So we should just stay really good friends.”

Lucifer opened his mouth-

“Not friends with benefits,” Chloe said.

“But the other night-“

“Was fun.”

“Fun.” Lucifer’s voice was strained. “But meaningless.”

“No. Not at all,” Chloe said, emphasising the words, but his soft brown eyes were tilted away from her, staring into the distance, his expression guarded, and she got the impression he was barely registering her. “But you’re a very important person to me. The best partner and friend I’ve ever had, and having you as my friend means so much more. I wouldn’t want us to do anything to jeopardise such an important friendship.” She gave his forearm a squeeze. “Do you understand?”

“Understood.” Lucifer spent a long moment adjusting his cufflinks, head down, giving them his full attention. He looked furious with himself. “You don’t want me like I want you.”

“Lucifer, it’s not that.”

“It’s alright. It’s a very sensible and correct choice. You’re too good to take on Dad’s favourite whipping boy. If I was worthwhile and good, I wouldn’t want me either.”

***

 

Chloe opened her mouth to protest but Lucifer was already striding past Dan and the other officers, yelling, “Come on. Chop chop. We’ve a killer to catch! Delinquent reprobate won’t arrest himself!” His determined pace meant he was passing the fountain before she realised she’d have to jog to catch up.

Apart from the slight dip of his shoulders and tension in his resigned stance, it’s business as usual, and his easy acceptance makes her feel awful. Somehow she’d expected him to be confused, or even carelessly persistent. Instead he’s resigned, because her refusal simply makes sense to him.

Chloe promised herself that later, once the case was over, she’d sit him down. Try again.

After searching through a series of cramped white-washed offices, Chloe found Samuel sat with Laura in her office. They were huddled together over paperwork and glanced up as Chloe reached them.

She produced her badge and Samuel paled. “Samuel Turner, you’re under arrest for the murder of Ben Anderson...” Chloe said, continuing his Miranda rights.

“You have the wrong man. Sam’s not some killer.” Laura jumped up, leaning over her wood desk. “Ben was his best friend. They went to middle school together, grew up together. Sam’s Mom called Ben her second son.”

Samuel’s blank gaze hovered on the grey carpet at Chloe’s feet. “I never meant to.”

Laura gasped.

Samuel flinched. “Ben had you in the frame for all his crimes. I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Samuel ground out. He avoided their gaze, looking thoroughly ashamed . “He wouldn’t listen. Didn’t care if he hurt you. Wasn’t even sorry. Ordered me out of his way. We struggled for the ledger, and...I...” Samuel trailed off unable to say the words, instead making a slashing motion.

There was a stunned silence while everyone around Chloe seemed almost frozen, with Laura covering her mouth in shock. Chloe vaguely registered Lucifer stepping around her towards Sam.

“He was like a brother to you.” Lucifer growled. “And you, you vile monster, you killed him!”

Lucifer stalked around the desk, every step furious.

“Lucifer.” Chloe put a restraining hand on Lucifer’s arm, but he continued striding to Samuel. Chloe tightened her grip. “Stop.”

Lucifer blinked.

Chloe stepped in front of Lucifer, placing a hand on his warm chest. “Stop. He’s just a man who’s hurting because he did something terrible protecting the woman he loves. That doesn’t make him a monster.”

Lucifer’s brown-eyed gaze turned to her, seemingly noticing her for the first time. “He’s not?”

“Of course not. I don’t think so.” Chloe stroked Lucifer’s arm, calming him. “But right now Samuel does need to go into custody.”

Lucifer cleared his throat. “Right, of course.”

 

***

 

Chloe stood in the reception entrance between Lucifer and Laura, watching Dan lead a handcuffed Samuel out the main double doors.

 “I always felt we had a unique connection.” Laura said in a wistful tone. “He got drunk once and he told me he felt the same. Said he loved me. But he was in the midst of a painful divorce: high school sweetheart. And I didn’t...couldn’t believe him.”

Chloe couldn’t help thinking how Sam must really love Laura to have sacrificed so much. How much happier she’d have been if she'd taken a chance on him. If she hadn’t opted for a supposedly safer choice, and gotten hurt anyway.

“But you preach risk-taking: you and your little talks.” Lucifer addressed Laura.

“I do, and I follow that. It’s all good advice. Usually.”

Lucifer waved a hand in Laura’s general direction. “You started your own business. You overcame public speaking. You said to take risk! If don’t, what hope is there for your poor pupils? Unbelievable!” Lucifer threw his hands in the air, and strode away, disappearing through the main doors and leaving Chloe standing awkwardly with Laura who watched the doors where Lucifer had exited.

“I did miss my opportunity.” Laura gestured to a conference poster showing a construction worker’s smiling face with the words ‘Meaningful Strategic Risk’ superimposed on top. “Didn’t believe the little signs. So your boyfriend’s right.”

Chloe put a hand up. “Lucifer? He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh, I just assumed...” Laura’s voice drifted off. “I watched you during the presentations: laughing, touching, whispering together.”

Chloe felt herself blush. “For the investigation.”

Laura waved away her words. “And he clearly trusts your opinion.”

“We work well together, as colleagues and friends.”

Laura raised an eyebrow.

“We tried for more once.” Chloe sighed, not sure why she was suddenly confiding in the woman. “I mean, I tried. Let myself care for him.” Chloe had the sudden unwanted memory of standing in the precinct as Candy’s pink platform heals descended the stairs. Even though the image had played on unwanted repeat many times, Chloe felt the same panicked sinking feeling: knowing something dreadful was coming and being powerless to stop it. All the misplaced worry for her poor missing partner twisting in her stomach and the dread intensified as Candy, carefree and vacuous, clacked down the steps. Tight hot-pink mini-dress and cheap platinum locks sashayed into view, all while Lucifer grinned beside her. “Our ‘thing’ clearly didn’t mean much to him.”

Laura waved for her to continue.

“Now, I know...more about him. There’s probably more to it, but it doesn’t matter.” Chloe shrugged for effect. “We’re friends. Just friends.”

Laura made a non-committal noise. “Then it’s interesting you’re telling me, don’t you think? Soliciting my advice.”

“I’m not soliciting anything.”

“Really? Because I’m a little like a doctor. Even in my down time, you wonderful people bring me your fascinating professional and personal ailments. But in my line of work it’s not to diagnose. It’s really only for one reason.” Laura held up a finger.“Do you suppose you’ve told me because perhaps you want encouragement?”

“No! Well...I don’t...I mean Lucifer’s not...he’s not exactly steady,” Chloe said.

But then, it had helped knowing who he was. He always had reasons.

__Weird Luciferish reasons._ _

“You’re worried he’s not a safe bet?”

“He has a habit of disappearing and not telling the whole truth and he’s brash and oversexed and has the biggest daddy issues of all time and I really worry about him and he’s honourable and sometimes violent but oddly sweet and protective and and drives like a maniac and values justice and always has my back and he keeps giving my daughter cake even though I told him not to and he’s brave and loud and gets adorably confused about emotional stuff and never helps with the paperwork and doesn’t realise what a good person he is and I trust him with my life and...and, I just...”

“Sounds like you’ve already done a full SWOT analysis.” Laura grinned. “So I’d advise simply taking the leap. But then...what do I know?” Laura waved a bangle-covered arm at the officers milling around her company: a company under investigation, half her staff arrested, a dead boyfriend and a soon-to-be-jailed best friend.

“What will you do now?”

“Get Sam a good lawyer.” Laura shrugged. “Cry, rage, rebuild.”

Dan appeared at the stairs, spotted her and strode over to update on the warrant so far. uni's had locked Samuel in a squad car, boxed up about half the paperwork and secured two of the three money launderers. The last ‘bad guy’ Kate Hall, who Chloe remembered as the sulky girl from the seminar’s add-ons table who’d desired her own distillery, was downstairs shouting and swearing at the top of her lungs.

Chloe followed Dan outside into the sandstone courtyard and to its centrepiece stone water-fountain, to where Officer Jenkins was holding a struggling Kate while Lucifer taunted her. Chloe was just near enough to hear Lucifer, when she saw the knife’s glint. The sales girl lunged for him. Chloe shoved him out the way, earning herself a shoulder barge that sent her over the fountain wall.

The fountain was surprising deep, filled with murky ice cold water. She surfaced thorough the water and when she found her footing the water reached her jaw.

A sizeable crowd of immaculately groomed, well put together, perfectly accessorised models had gathered around the fountain to gawk at her. There were at least fifteen or twenty of them. Well manicured faces stared at her and Chloe fought down a hot blush of annoyance. Several women avoided her gaze perhaps in sympathy, most simply stared openly at whatever embarrassing spectacle she was apparently making. A few giggles scattered around the crowd and she could hear the soft undercurrent of whispered jokes and insults.

Oh and great! Somewhere in the tumble she’d lost a shoe.

Of course none of the women moved to help, but she could do that herself. She was a big girl after all. An adult. A capable detective. Capable of suppressing a little awkwardness; of not letting her emotions get the best of her. Chloe paddled to the metal fountain column where the ground beneath her rose allowing her to stand comfortably, the water lapping around her at stomach hight. 

Then she began feeling around with her foot for the missing shoe.

“Our Jack-y Daniels is in custody. Detective Douche has...Detective?” said Lucifer’s puzzled voice, and he came into view, peering down over the stone fountain wall. “What’re you doing in there? Re-enacting the stand-out scene from your cinematic magnum opus?”

 “No, shocker, I’m not here by choice.”

 Whispering spread through the crowd.

Perhaps she’d been distracted by the increased staring, but when she turned to face Lucifer, he was frowning at the crowd while placing his shoes neatly on the fountain’s marble wall. Next his nimble fingers unfastened his wristwatch, laying it beside his shoes. He was shrugging off his jacket when Chloe realised what he was planning. “I don’t need you to rescue me.”

“Agreed.” Lucifer smirked at her, placing his phone and wallet on the wall beside his jacket. He straddled the fountain wall, water settling around his thigh, and gestured to himself. “Purely of my own accord and because I wish it.”

Then, wearing a white silk shirt and suit trousers that probably cost more than her entire car, Lucifer sank into the murky water. “Bloody hell! It’s freezing!”

Chloe stared at the incorrigible oddball splashing towards her through leaf-infested water. Watched the progress of her normally-immaculate partner who spent at least, at Chloe’s estimate, thirty percent of his waking hours smoothing out imaginary shirt wrinkles. And complained bitterly one time bird poo landed on his fancy Italian-leather loafers. His clothes would be ruined.

 Lucifer waded to her side, water dipping to belt hight with the ground’s tilt. He stood regarding her with amused brown eyes, damp brown hair already curling under the fountain’s spray. Then with one strong hand he pulled her to her feet and offered the crook of his arm. “Shall we?”

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, Chloe leant against the fountain, getting ever colder as she supervised the uni’s as they brought box after box of evidence for her murder investigation and the related money laundering. As she watched Officer Jenkins carry past two computer hard-drives, Chloe subtly pulled Lucifer’s navy blazer tight around her shoulders. Her hands trembled in the unseasonably chilly weather, and icy through wind that whistled through gaps between the buildings and the open courtyard, numbing her reddening fingers. But Chloe wouldn’t let the cold or drenched clothes get the best of her, focussing instead on the trail of evidence, as lead investigator she’d make sure she got justice for Ben Anderson (because no matter what kind of man he was he didn’t deserve to die) and for Laura and even Samuel, who deserved a just investigation that would no doubt support his claim of accidental death.

Lucifer stood beside her, and glaring at anyone who came near and she got the impression he was standing guard.  

“Lucifer, I’m fine. Just chilly,” Chloe grumbled once the officers were out of hearing range, clustered around the patrol cars.

“You humans are always running out into the windswept, rain-covered moors. Catching ‘cold’ and expiring,” Lucifer said, making her wonder what books he’d been reading.  

“I’m fine.”

Lucifer gestured at her shivering, giving a sceptical look.

“Your worry is actually really endearing.” Chloe reached out and stroked his hand. “But not needed. As soon as we’re done, I’ll go right home, and change.”

“Home?! That’s forty minutes! You could develop ‘a fit of illness’ or ‘the vapours’!”

“I’m not contracting some nineteenth century illness. You don’t have to hover over me like some giant mother hen.”

“Touché,” Lucifer huffed.

While Lucifer paced beside the fountain, Chloe ran through her checklist with Officer Davies, checking he’d fully executed her warrant: impounded all computers, and paperwork; recorded all stock levels, advised Kate Hall and the other perps of their Miranda rights and secured them in the patrol cars; and that one office would stay behind with Ella while she fingerprinted the file cabinets.

“Recon that’s everything, Detective,” the Officer Davies confirmed and Lucifer appeared at his elbow, startling him.

Lucifer loomed over the shorter, older man. “Right then, Darling. Off you pop. Go on, shoo.,” Lucifer said, simultaneously steering and propelling Officer Davies to his patrol car.

Then Lucifer took Chloe’s elbow, surprising her by striding past her car and his own Corvette and into a windowless alley between the brick wall of Trailblazer’s office and the stucco Tapas restaurant wall. The alley was filthy and every few steps a gust of hot restaurant-kitchen air blew her face. As she walked, Chloe picked her way around piles of trash, soggy cardboard and beer bottles and candy wrappers, until Lucifer stopped in the secluded walled-off bin area. Rotting lettuce overflowed the out of the bins, reeking of sweaty vegetables and putrid meat.

Lucifer turned her to face him, taking both her hands.

“Close your eyes, Detective.”

Chloe gave him a pointed look.

Lucifer sighed. “Please.”

Chloe closed her eyes and felt his arms wrap tightly around her, muscles tense, movements edgy, and she heard his heart beating fast through his shirt.  

“I must have your word, Detective. That you won’t peek.” He sounded so sombre that she nodded.

“Lucifer, wha-”

Chloe felt herself lifting up, supported only by the strong arms embracing her. Cool air gusted around her, whipping her hair, and there was a loud flapping sound. She was desperately curious but squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, settling her head against his warm chest.

 

***

 

Lucifer whispered a warning to bend her knees and her feet hit solid ground. When she opened her eyes, Chloe was disappointed Lucifer’s wings had already vanished. She trailed behind him into her living room, a single small snowy white feather lay on the blue rug as the only evidence he’d ever used them. It was all very sudden, not only had his wings vanished but barely a minute ago, they’d been standing on the other side of L.A.

Chloe distilled the magnitude of her experience into one sentence. “That was quick.”

“Pocket dimension.” Lucifer smoothed his soggy shirt. “Needs must when the Me drives, Detective.”

He hadn’t mentioned flying before, Chloe wasn’t sure he’d even used the wings for the God-given purpose since their restoration.

“Thank you.” Chloe touched his arm.

“Well, can’t have you dying on me...” Lucifer avoided her gaze. “I’d have to partner Daniel.”

While Lucifer pocketed his loose feather, Chloe busied herself heating the electric fire, turning the dial to max, and definitely not (she told herself) surreptitiously watching how Lucifer’s damp semi-transparent white shirt clung to his toned stomach.

Right! Must find towels (and clothes) she told herself. Right the hell now! The tension would vanish just as soon as she returned with towels.

She left him there, crouched beside the sofa, and went to rummage through bathroom towels and the few remaining unpacked boxes in her bedroom closet. She found several colourful Disney beach towels and carried them back to the living room. “Dan left a pair of old sweatpants, but for the life of me I can’t...” Chloe trailed off as she noticed Lucifer’s naked form.

He was facing her, half turned to the fire, with arms wide and hips thrust out. The fire’s flickering orange light played across his pecs, toned stomach and very long impressive-

“You’re naked?!” Chloe said.

Lucifer gestured the length of his body. “Good eye, Detective!”

“Actually, more of a question.”

“I’m air drying.”

Oh, sure.

Okay.

Naturally he took off all his clothes.

“Here!” Chloe chucked the beach towel at him and turned her back, giving him privacy he obviously didn’t care about.

She waited several long moments, distracting herself to give him time: was Maze back? Were those her dirty pans in the sink? An empty vodka bottle? Should Chloe check the dishwasher for food? Chloe counted out seconds in her head until she felt sure he’d had enough time, and when she turned to face him he was using the towel to dry his hair.

Because, of course he was.

“Lucifer, put on the frigging towel!” Chloe pointed at him. “You can’t just waft, naked, through my apartment! Thank God Trixie’s at Dan’s tonight,” Chloe said, ignoring Lucifer’s whine at the mention of his Dad.

She marched to him, careful to focus on his face, and determined to have him put on the towel he was still examining with confusion. Once standing toe to toe, she stopped: feeling the sudden tension, close but not close enough. He was naked, within touching distance. Beads of moisture still sliding down his chest and she couldn’t forget he was only wet because of his small act of kindness. Because he’d cared. The moment felt tense. His naked body radiated heat. His abdominal muscles twitched under her examining gaze and Chloe felt the warm tingle of arousal run through her.

Taking a nervous breath, Chloe ran a fingertip down his smooth chest, and toned stomach.

“Making a new ‘with benefits’ deal, Detective?”

Chloe steeled herself. This loaded moment, standing with him, felt like a culmination of so much, of all their time together. He needed someone to be sure about him. In all his millennia of existence, she doubted anyone had. “No deals. I want you. All of you.” Chloe let out a shaky breath. “If that’s alright?”

He pulled her waist flat against him, drawing her into a hungry kiss. Moaning into his mouth, she felt him already hard and pressed against her hip.

He broke their kiss, watching her with impossibly dark eyes. “You’re certain?”

“Yes, very much.”

She kissed him, and could feel him smiling through the kiss, reducing them to tender pecks.

With one hand, she trailed a finger down his bare chest, inching closer to where he most needed relief, only to brush the smooth tip, and instead take his balls. She massaged them, treating him with care in case they’re still tender from his ‘sitch’, then slowed to give them a feather-light trail of her fingertips. She worked him for some time until she had him panting hotly against her neck while his shaky hand urged her fingers higher.

In one smooth motion, hands grabbed her ass lifting her into his arms, causing her to wrap her legs tight around his slim waist. She felt herself lowered onto the soft sofa, and, staring her eyes, ground his erection against her crotch.

He felt good, achingly hard as he brushed against her. She tingled where their bodies joined. And thrilled at how proudly aroused he was, completely comfortable naked and displaying what her attention had already done to him.

Apparently reaching a decision, he settled between her legs. The sight of his face between her thighs thrilled her. His nimble fingers ripped open her shirt, spraying buttons across the wood floor, and then traced her thighs as they slide her jeans and soaked knickers to her ankles.

For a moment, he sat back grinning at her and she honestly wondered if he’d forgotten why he was down there, then he sank between her legs and brushed his tongue across her sensitive nerves. Though he barely touched her, the tension built quickly, but he kept a frustratingly languid pace, drawing out her desire.

“Lucifer?” 

Lucifer grinned. “Not yet, Darling.”  

Seriously?! Unbelievable!

This was not happening. No way. Nope. Chloe huffed in frustration. Two could play his game.

She followed her instincts. As Lucifer’s long elegant piano player’s fingers stroked her clit, Chloe urged him onto the sofa beside her and bent down to his cock which immediately bucked into the air, searching for contact. Teasingly, she held his dark-eyed gaze and licked from base to swollen head. His eyes darkened. She positioned herself at his head as though she were going to take him in her mouth, but instead lightly blew along his wet shaft.

“It’s like that huh?!” Lucifer chuckled. “Well you’re playing with Hellfire.”

He grinned, clearly delighting in her teasing.

Chloe thought hard. What would get her eccentric partner hot and bothered? “Lucifer, you know what I...desire?”

“Darling!” Lucifer said. “You can’t think I’m that easy.”

He smirked and his fingers sped up their rhythm and she nearly came right then, as he brought her right to the edge and kept her there, denying her orgasm.  She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

So she gave him her professional-cop smile and took him in hand, his cock jerking as her thumb brushed his now weeping head. She kept up a relentless pace until his hips were sloppily jerking. Then, just as he was clearly about to blow, she slowed to a leisurely rhythm just the frustrating side of painfully slow.

He had the sheer nerve to whine!

She shot him her most self-satisfied grin.

Lucifer leant in close, arm cradling her back, and in one smooth motion rolled them off the couch, landing with grunt on the rug. 

Chloe was now straddling his hips, his long erection resting between her clit’s wet folds. Perfectly positioned. She was probably soaking him. He was probably as wet as she was now. 

He smirked up at her, making her laugh and shake her head.

Weirdo.

Lucifer pressed his cock-head against her opening, rolling his hips in question and Chloe slooooooooooowly slid down onto him.

Huh, wow. Wow.

Let’s face it he had reason to be big-headed, not that she was about to tell him that. She could feel him stretching her and her muscles clenching him in response. Gradually he filled her until she was nestled in his lap.

Then, it was all too much.

His hands guided her in a frantic pace they both needed. She bounced on his lap, her gasps mingling with his loud groans. His noises spurred her on, turning her on. Tingling. Building. She’d meant to drag it out, but...

Lucifer reached a hand between them and stroking her tender and swollen clit.

“Ah...ah...”

She came yelling his name.

When she came back to her senses, Lucifer’s strong hands were holding her up as he gazed wonderingly, a soft smile quirking his lips. “Detec-”

“Chloe.” She pressed a kiss to those soft lips, leaning in close to run her hands along his smooth back.

She felt close to him, in-tune with his body, emotionally connected to the frustrating, kind, incredible man lying beneath her and gazing back with such an awed expression.

But Lucifer was still achingly hard between her legs. So she rode him, rocking in the fast pace his hands urged. He was close. He panted beneath her, dark eyes hooded, wincing with pleasure at every bounce. He wouldn’t last much longer, and she suspected watching her had turned him on more than anything…

Beneath her fingers, his back twinged.

Lucifer pulled back, panicked. “My wings! I…I have to stop.”

“It’s alright. You can show me.”

He looked appalled. “You can’t want-”

“If you think you can’t be valued for all that you are, you’re wrong. Partners know each other. I know who you really are.”

Lucifer avoided her gaze.

Wrapping a leg around his thigh, Chloe rolled them so Lucifer was above her, and in control. She paused there, loosening her grip around his hips, until he nodded he understood.

“We can stop. But I don’t think that’s what you want,” Chloe whispered, emphasising her words with a hip roll, causing him to thrust. His hips jerked in the sputtering, sloppy rhythm of someone barely hanging on.

Chloe rolled her hips again, and he bucked hard. “You want to.”

“Bloody Hell!” Lucifer’s body shuddered. “Of course I want to! I really want to!”

She stroked his tummy, feeling muscles tightly clenching as he tried to stave off his release. He was achingly close.

“You humans...fragile…I can’t...” Lucifer gasped. “...I...can’t…”

Chloe kissed up his neck to his ear, brushing her lips against his lobe.

 “I need you, Lucifer.” Chloe gave him her breathiest voice. “I need you to come for me.”

There was a second or two where she thought he hadn’t heard, then he gave a loud gasp, thrusting up. A tremor ran through him. His back twitched. Bellowing her name, he came hard, clutching her to his chest as his soft white wings appeared around them.

 

***

 

Yellowish early morning light spilt from the skylight, lighting the couch and the cool wooden flooring under her leg. Chloe blinked drowsily, enjoying the feeling of profound contentment. She was on her side, a bright light at the corner of her eye...

...a wing. One of his wings.

His wings cocooned her in their soothing warm haze, filling her with calm. While a strong muscular arm curved around her waist, holding her protectively, as Lucifer spooned her. Because the Devil was a closet cuddler.

Though the cool morning breeze, fluttering the living room curtains, caressed her bare arms and legs, between the hot Devil at her back, her pleasantly exhausted muscles, and the effect of his wings, Chloe felt more relaxed than she had in months.  

She turned towards his chest, snuggling into his warmth, causing him to moan. He stared down his nose at her with bleary brown eyes, as his face broke into a soft oh-there-you-are smile.

He glanced behind her, over her shoulder, and frowned.

Chloe turned finding her black-framed ‘Cemetery Campus: Night of the Undead Co-eds’ movie poster lying shattered on the wooden floor. The glass had cracked over the bikini-clad freshman and, beside her hips, the tag line “This year, finals are murder!” Spiral fractures radiated out from the break across its centre, where something powerful and no doubt wing-shaped had struck with great force.   

 “My apologies, Detective,” Lucifer muttered in her ear. “Your Picture-”

“Is easily replaced.”

“But it’s a B-movie classic. A record holder for most fake blood. Over sixty litres! Subject to its own captivating gipsy curse: production went bankrupt three times, and two unfortunate cameramen vanished mysteriously!” Lucifer said, sounding aggrieved. “And who could forget the outstanding scene where the sexy naked co-ed gets strangled by the haunted neck-tie?”

Chloe smiled to herself. Such a goofball. What was she going to do with him?

She turned back to find him still preoccupied by the picture, staring agitatedly. “An unfettered travesty. Of course, I’ll replace it.”

“Don’t. It’s fine. It’s a not-asked-for house-warming gift from Mom.” Chloe sighed. “Might not tell her what happened.”

That was a conversation she’d prefer not to have: Oh the picture? Well, my possibly-hopefully-boyfriend came so hard his angel wings knocked the frame right off the wall.

Lucifer turned on his back, beside her, stretching languidly against the floorboards, making all his toned stomach muscles ripple and Chloe found she'd traced their movement without even realising. Of course he noticed, smirking at her. “So, now I’ve given you the best night of your life, do you desire to make these naughty sexy times a regular event?” Lucifer reclined smugly, head resting on one arm, leering at her, appearing secure in his assumption she’d want a rematch, but she noticed the flicker of doubt.

“Firstly, the best night of my life was eight years ago when Trixie was born.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Second, do you really think I’d want you just for sex?”

“Well I have been tremendously useful at detectiving. Of course that will continue.” Lucifer frowned. “Something else? You’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t want my favours. Do you require free drinks? Fine dining? I could supply burgers and fries again? Access to my tailor? Use of the penthouse?”

“What if I just want you, all of you?”

“I...er...you do?” Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.

“Very, very much.”

Lucifer’s soft brown eyes blinked rapidly and he swallowed hard, looking overwhelmed. “All of me? You’ll have to be swift. The wings are going return-to-sender as soon as Mazel gets back.”

“Lucifer you can’t.”

Lucifer frowned. “You like them that much?”

“I like you that much.” Chloe took a deep breath. “I don’t want you hurting yourself.” She rested her head on his chest, tugging his arm around her.

“But Dear Old Dad shouldn’t get to dress me how he likes! Angel! Devil! Angel!” Lucifer glowered. “I am not his celestial Ken doll!”

“I know.” Chloe trailed her fingertips across his bare chest, in a way he seemed to find soothing as his breathing evened out. “I do know.” Chloe traced circles down across his stomach, trying to convey that she understood his conflict. “But the wings are a part of you. And I know some part of you wants them.”

“They’d only cause trouble: always there, following me, a constant frustrating distraction, popping up when you'd least expect, making themselves known at dreadfully inopportune moments.”

“Just like the rest of you then. Perhaps it’s time you learnt to accept and appreciate them,” Chloe said, snuggling against his warm chest then raising her head so she could look him in his brown eyes. “After all, you cause me trouble, but I’m going to keep you anyway.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the ending I always planned. But I had one person ask about wing kink, and I *might* do a wing kink PWP companion piece if there was a decent amount of interest in this.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated.
> 
> Warning- parts two and three will be very explicit (language and content).


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